


Laced Drink

by demiclar



Series: Destcember 2020 [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Destcember (Destiny), Destcember 2020, Edon + Torak help out, I made my own prompts because reasons, Original Characters - Freeform, Trigger Warning - Attempted Assault, Trigger Warning - Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27846490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demiclar/pseuds/demiclar
Summary: Amaya struggles to return to the safety of the Tower after she's drugged at a party.
Series: Destcember 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037118
Kudos: 1
Collections: Fireteam Aadya





	Laced Drink

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is day 2 of my self made Destcember challenge, I believe this prompt came from a Whumptober prompt list. I might be cheating a little bit because I started writing this a while ago but whatever.

Amaya could hardly see. She was dizzy and sick and couldn’t believe how _stupid_ she’d been to go to this party without Lumina. And she couldn’t even begin to understand how she’d thought it would be a good idea to leave her Ghost at home.

She’d taken the invite from a couple of militiamen from the 57th Squadron of the Stoneborn Order. She’d hardly known them, had wanted to improve relations. Where they were now was beyond her. Most everything was, unfortunately. Whatever she’d drank, it hadn’t been alcohol. No, her light and Guardian metabolism would’ve powered through it like it had with all the other drinks she’d consumed, but this? It was threatening to knock her out. She needed to get home.

When had she set down her drink? She hadn’t had she? She’d gone off to the bathroom what, an hour ago? She could hardly remember now. Could hardly think beyond the pounding in her brain.

The music surged loud around her, and she stumbled, one of her heels catching on the floor in some way she couldn’t see, the movement nearly sending her crashing into a nearby group of partygoers. She caught herself before she could. She remembered them vaguely, just faces that had stared at her when she’d entered, at the scars dotting her exposed skin. She stood out like a sore thumb. _Stupid!_

A hand reached out to her through the haze and she stumbled back from it, not quickly enough to avoid it grabbing onto her arm. A face loomed at her from above. Had she fallen over? She was a guardian in heels and yet she felt like she was being towered over. Her eyes roved over their lips as sounds spilled out of them and into the cacophony of music around her, all of which her brain was moving far too slow to decipher.

“ _Somethingsomethingsomething_ \- help you-?”

She could’ve sworn she heard the last two words clearly, but she wouldn’t trust her ears one bit. But she needed help, right? Nausea swelled in her and she clamped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head and stumbling backwards. The hand slid down to grip her wrist, held tight in a way that was all too familiar.

This had happened before, hadn’t it? She couldn’t recall, but dread licked her stomach as much as sickness did, heat surging through her body and making her head spin as she felt ready to vomit. Yes, this was familiar, but not in a good way. She needed to get home.

She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, digging in her heels as the hand tried to lead her forward by her wrist. A dancer bumped into her and she stumbled. Or had she bumped into them? She didn’t know. She could only pull away from the tugging hand.

She stumbled again, and suddenly she was within the group of partyers she’d seen before. They hardly spared her a glance, and certainly didn’t pause. Hardly seconds past before there was hands gripping her waist, hips grinding forward against her ass. She fought to get away from them quickly. A hit that normally would’ve broken a guardian’s jaw resulted in only a mildly annoyed noise, and then she was free and pushing towards the exit. It spun in her sight, but she kept going, kept pushing towards it.

She’d hardly made it outside before the nausea was building to a peak, and the sudden flood of silence and cold air that met her on the street sent her collapsing to her knees and retching. She needed her Ghost. She needed to get home. She wasn’t far from the Tower. She just had to get there; someone could help her once she made it.

She made it to her feet a few moments later, stumbling forward just as the door slammed open behind her and she recognized the face that had loomed over her earlier. She was already stumbling away, towards the city walls blocks from where she stood. Maybe someone on the night’s patrol could help her.

She dared another glance back, the face now moving after her, contorted with frustration, even anger. She might’ve been a Guardian, a strong, able bodied Titan woman, but she didn’t feel like one as she stumbled along now. It had been Titans who had done this to her the first time, locked in a cramped supply closet out on the front. With the drugs now crashing through her system, she didn’t doubt a civilian could overpower her just the same.

It was always drugs. Always, to disconnect her to her light she had to be incapacitated. Disorientation pounded over her senses as the urge to vomit swelled up again, but she had to keep moving. Had to get somewhere people could see, had to find a way to protect herself without weapons or light. But the face was still getting closer, a tall man that could’ve been a Titan for all she knew, with broad shoulders and muscled arms that on a regular day she could give a run for their money but now? She couldn’t help the shaking that overtook her body.

She tried to move faster. Slipped on her heels and paused only for a second to kick them from her feet. The man wasn’t running after her. No, they were still on a city block, there was always people watching, he didn’t want to cause a scene, but she would if she needed to. She likely already was. Fear was fighting off the drug’s effects more effectively than anything else, and she could move still, bare feet scraping over the ground as she reminded herself to keep walking, keep going. She would make it. She had to make it.

* * *

Edon almost didn’t hear the pounding on the door over the sound of Shaxx’s yelling echoing out of the wallscreen he and Torak were watching. They’d stopped cuddling painful minutes ago. He hadn’t been able to take the violence on the screen and pair it with his lover’s arms. Especially not when it was his twin sister enacting the violence, gutting other guardians with her knives in a rumble crucible match. Nothing could stop her, indeed.

But the pounding made it over the noise, and he looked up just as Torak frowned, his lover reaching out to pause the match as they both looked towards the door. Again, the noise sounded, echoing through the apartment this time, thumping hard against his door. He cast his light out naturally, just a cursory look, but what met him had him rushing to throw open the door.

He crossed the room at a run as soon as he felt it, Amaya was waiting for him on the other side of the door, but her light…it was cut off, sick, disconnected, and as soon as he threw open the door, he could see why.

His second stood hunched over in the doorway, leaning heavily on the doorframe, shaking and covered in a mix of sweat and vomit. Her face was pale, her makeup smudged across skin from tears and sweat, and though her skin was normally light blue, her lips were so purple they almost looked black, tremors raking though her body like she was freezing. She was wearing a tight dress, one that showed off plenty of her muscled skin, and for most it would’ve been alluring and attractive, but now it was stained and smelled of sweat and the reek of vomit. Her feet were bare and bloody, footprints behind her on the tiled floor leading down the hallway, even depicting a limp which she still seemed to possess, one of her feet laid sideways to keep the pad of it off the ground. Edon was pretty sure he saw glass prodding from out of it.

At the sight of him, tears sprung forth in her eyes and her hands barely caught in his shirt before she collapsed to her knees. He rushed to grab her as she fell, taking her by her elbows and struggling to lift her as her body went lip. Just as quickly as he’d tried to lift her to her feet, he forsook the effort of helping her stand, instead switching his hands to instead grip her under her knees and behind her back, lifting her straight into his arms.

She fell against his chest like a rag doll, and she was crying as he carried her inside and kicked the door shut, making it all of three steps before her body convulsed and the reek of vomit flooded his nose. Torak was standing at this point, and he rushed to get ahead of Edon as he walked, opening the door to allow him into the bathroom. He stepped inside with efficient strides, dropping to his knees to set Amaya down in front of the toilet, his hands steading her before quickly rising to pull her hair back, out of her face as she doubled over the seat.

“Amaya, what happened?” He asked her, yielding his hands to Torak’s as the other man handled Amaya’s hair with greater ease and care, drawing the near white strands back into a ponytail behind her head.

He watched her open her mouth to speak, only to double over the toilet further, her hands gripping it like a lifeline as her body tensed and she wretched again.

“Drugged.” She spat out once she could breathe again, “Something in my drink.” She rasped, her throat likely rough from her vomiting. “A guy was following me.”

Edon was already telling his Ghost to find hers, while he leaned forward and looked into her eyes as she raised her head to look at him. She seemed more or less aware, but Amaya wasn’t small, and she was a guardian, whatever had been put in her drink had been fully intended to take her out, a guardian, and a titan at that. Perhaps she’d already vomited a good deal of it out of her system.

“You said you were going to the party with guys from the 57th.” Edon recalled quickly. She’d mentioned it while they’d been leaving the wall afternoon. “Who were they?”

“Militia.” She answered. “I’d only seen them a few times before. I didn’t know them well. They ditched me after half an hour.”

Edon knew enough about assaults to know the perpetrator was almost always someone the victim knew. In the Order they were usually squad leaders or higher, someone with authority, someone who could keep a situation quiet.

“Do you think they’re the ones that did this? Was one of them the guy following you?” Edon knew it was heavy to accuse another member of the Order—one not from his own squadron—of attempted assault, but he had to operate based on the information that he had, and his second had just come to him drugged and stalked. Though their mental link, he told his Ghost to check to see if anyone was following the bloody trail Amaya had left in the hallway. If the person following her was a Guardian, if they were able to get into the Tower…well it would complicate things.

“No.” Amaya answered, shaking her head. “I didn’t recognize him. But I didn’t get a good look, either.”

Edon frowned, glancing up to see Torak returning to the room with a wet cloth and a glass of water. He hadn’t even realized he’d left. Amaya took them both from Torak with shaking hands.

“Do you think we should tell Zavala?” Amaya asked after she’d wiped her face with the cloth.

“I’ll file a report.” He promised. “You’re going to take the day off tomorrow. And I’ll need the names of the Milita fighters you went to the party with.”

“Sure.” Amaya answered, likely because she was simply too tired to argue. She’d only just spoken before her Ghost zipped through the open door.

Edon took one look at the little machine likely about to lecture her Guardian’s ear off before he rose to his feet.

“I’m glad you’re safe.” He told her. “Stay as long as you’d like. There’s towels under the sink if you want to take a shower.”

Amaya gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, Edon.”

He followed Torak out of the room with a final look at her Ghost.

“Go easy on her, alright?” He told the machine, then he left his Second in her care, shutting the door gently behind him.


End file.
